


Unfortunate Code Names

by arrafrost



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Drabble, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-06 22:13:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16841437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrafrost/pseuds/arrafrost
Summary: Peter meets some interesting people during the apocalypse.





	Unfortunate Code Names

**Author's Note:**

> Old prompt on tumblr that I'm throwing over here. For my friend Gaz who wanted Marvel Red Team during the apocalypse.

“Shit, shit, shit, motherfucking shit,” Peter mumbled to himself from behind the dumpster.

He was breathing harshly into the red scarf he’d wrapped around his face to keep him quiet and to keep splatter from getting into his mouth. A couple shells left and not a lot of options with a hoard walking around where he ditched his bike to get supplies from the general store.

Unfortunately, the place had already been ransacked but he did manage to grab some chocolate bars, some small bags of chips, Powerade because all the Gatorade and water was taken, and some cans of beans. Wasn’t much use to him though if he couldn’t get out of here. He certainly wasn’t going anywhere on foot, not in the dark of the highways where the undead could be hiding under any vehicle.

“YEEHAW!” Followed shortly by a round of gunshots echoed from the parking lot.

Peter tensed, ducking down immediately at the unexpected noise before craning his neck to peer around the dumpster. A man, dressed in black and red, covered in weapons and ammunition, with two handguns raised and – were those _swords_ strapped to his back? Peter glanced down at his double barrel shotgun and suddenly felt _even more_ useless in the apocalypse, and he hadn’t thought that would be possible. The only thing that kept Peter from _not dying_ like everyone else had been his mind and his agility. Parkour. Always take up parkour in case of an apocalypse and be top of your class in brains.

Then you had guys like that. Wild, loud, but obviously knew how to use weapons and kick some ass because that’s exactly what he was doing. The man in the red and black mask had jumped straight into the hoard. He alternated between shooting, kicking, elbowing, hitting them with the blunt end of the guns and reloading. It was… memorizing. How could someone move like that, jumping through the air and reloading at the same time. It was straight out of a comic book.

“Okay! They’re dead!” The man shouted when all the zombies were laying on the ground around him, bleeding and not entirely in the more whole pieces they had been in before. “Well… dead _er_!”

Peter narrowed his eyes, unsure why the man was announcing this when he heard footsteps and a tapping sound. He let his gaze travel to a man with a bright red jacket, jeans, no mask but he was wearing red shades. He had a cane, a classy looking custom-made one, tapping away in front of him.

That was something Peter had not expected. The man was armed, Peter could see, not as heavily as his partner was but definitely had the means of defending himself.

He crawled closer, maintaining cover behind the dumpster, unsure of whether or not to announce himself to the strangers. People weren’t always the good guys in an apocalyptic world. He either needed to introduce himself and hope they wouldn’t take all of his stuff, his weapons and leave him for dead or kill him… or he could wait here until they left and get back on his bike, hoping no zombies would come after him. The only problem was… he was dangerously low on ammo.

“Hello there, baby boy.”

Peter jumped in his skin, head rocking back in surprise and smacking loudly against the dumpster. The curse on his lips was silenced though, as the masked figure was immediately nose-to-nose with him. Peter yelped, pursing his lips together as he tried to back up further into the metal that felt infinitely more friendly than this… person.

“What are you doing here, little one? Spying on me?”

“I-I-um…”

“Talk now or you won’t again.” He felt the cold tip of a gun press against his temple and Peter felt his heart leap high into his throat.

“Fuck, man. Don’t shoot! I was getting supplies and the zombies surrounded my bike and I don’t have ammo so I was waiting until they left and then you showed up and while that was epic you’re really scaring the shit outta me!”

Peter’s chest was rising and falling fast, his eyes squeezed tightly together, and his fist gripping his gun and bag like they were his only lifeline.

“Why didn’t you say so?”

He could hear the grin on the man’s lip as the gun lowered from Peter’s head and he let out a long sigh of relief. When Peter opened his eyes, the man was standing in front of him, hands on his hips… examining him it seemed.

“Hey! Look he’s wearing red just like us!” The masked man shouted over his shoulder to his partner who was walking over to them.

“Yes, I’m sure,” was the sarcastic reply and Peter couldn’t help but smile. People. They were actual people that communicated with words. He would be ecstatic if he wasn’t still afraid of shitting his pants.

“Dude says he’s blind but he’s got better aim than me. I don’t believe him. Unless he’s magic. Then I’ll believe him.”

Peter chanced a laugh at the masked man’s words. Magic wouldn’t be that hard to believe with zombies becoming a real thing.

“The name’s Alberta. Red eyes over there is Hell’s Kitchen – which doesn’t help in me thinking he’s a witch.” The man- Alberta extended his hand to Peter and he took it, hesitantly at first but then he gripped Alberta’s wrists as he was pulled up. “And you are?”

“Uh…” Peter brushed his pants off, settling his bag on his shoulder better. “I’m… Queens, I guess.”

Alberta snorted.

“What?”

“Welcome aboard, Queens.” Hell’s Kitchen walked up and Peter shook his hand, nodding with uncertainty. Alberta snorted again. “Don’t mind him. He thinks everything is funny.”

“Only funny things.”

“He’s also an idiot but handy with weapons. You’ll be safe with us as long as you can pull your weight.”

Peter smirked, “Yeah well… I’ve survived this long on my own. I think I’ll manage.”

“Good,” H.K. smiled back at him and Peter ignored the fluttering feeling in his stomach. “We should get some supplies and get moving. Al, give the kid some ammo. I know you have shotgun shells somewhere on that body of yours.”

“Only because you’re always checking out my smoking hot bod.”

“You know it.” Peter could hear the eye roll in his words.

“…Wait,” He frowned as he stepped forward, intending to follow the two men. “How did you know I have a shotgun?”

H.K. only turned his head and smirked before continuing after Al, who was already breaking into the shop by smashing the window… even though Peter had already got in quietly not too long ago. He sighed, shaking his head and tapping his gun against his leg. At the very least… things would be interesting with these two.

**Author's Note:**

> To be fair, I now think it's much more likely for Wade to be from Winnipeg but I'm too lazy to change it.


End file.
